I moved from the UK in my early 20s, prior to that I was young and stupid, so I neglected to vote there. Then I moved to America and started the green card process, and didn’t feel it was right to vote for things back in the UK as it wasn’t my home anymore and it wasn’t my place to say what should happen there. I finally naturalized around a decade after I moved here, and immediately signed up to vote. I actually cried at the polling station because I was so happy to vote for the first time ever!

I read that as “I spend my time at TARGET”

Less. Maybe once every few weeks. It feels like a chore, lots of porn is abusive, derogatory, just very male oriented. I want hardcore but consensual, I don’t want to see cum flipping every which way, I don’t want fake moans and dudes ego-slapping their cocks. All of this to say, I want good, hard porn, but not that porn.

Luckily my imagination is good, so just a good story or image is enough of a baseline for me. Also, super lame to say, but my best wank bank material is good sex with my husband. I think about that a lot.

I wandered around a local park in Tennessee yesterday (as a chronically dehydrated and adapted person) and I drank 2 ltrs of water in a couple of hours and was still fucking dying.

Just got back off vacation to an absolutely heaving vegetable garden, thanks to my automated rain barrel watering system. So pumped that it actually worked! Gonna go harvest a bunch of tomatoes and cucumbers today. Also my mint wine is ready to go into secondary fermentation so I’m looking forward to that!

I felt this way too, but my husband guilted me into sticking with it and I’m super glad he did, we had SO much fun playing split screen. I’m the type of person who has to look at the controller to see which one triangle is to give you some idea of my adeptness.

Twinings pure mint is the tits, and a great night time alternative to chugging 12 mugs of Yorkshire throughout the workday.

Heyyyy I’m at least double digits in age.

Idk why but Kelly Clarkson.

On the flip side, I was up and working out three days after my bisalp. And my friend who got a vasectomy was bedridden for a week. I think they’re pretty comparable, it’s just a game of rock paper scissors whether you’ll have the easy or the hard recovery.

It’s already super hard. I was lucky and found a doctor who understood, but I’m not young. People in their 20s face a whole bunch of bullshit, enough to get in the way and prevent them having the procedure. It’s fucked.

Stickers should have a greater sense of self worth and keep it together when people are trying to tear them apart.

A law that prohibits labels from being too sticky that you can’t reuse the packaging. For example, I should absolutely be able to easily peel off the labels from empty wine bottles and glass jars so I can reuse them.

I love otamatones.

Make jokes about not being busy. Make them boldly in slightly non appropriate circles. Then lean with the same amount of conviction into compliments. Agree with full heart, be non apologetic with the same force used to joke about how little work you have.

This duality is powerful because on the one hand you clearly have nothing to hide, and on the other hand you’re painfully truthful. Works a charm. Then go have brunch on the clock.

Thank you, it was worth the crucial muscle groups sacrifice.

I don’t know what the reason is, but I have a large friend group of almost exclusively males, and I am a respected, listened to female, who can easily command the room. I can also deadlift twice my body weight.

Sounds to me like it’s a well stocked food supply then.

Devalue money.

I feel like this was always the plan. Put the plebian frog in the pot of 9-5 corporate hellscape and slowly boil it. We’re all too exhausted to fight.